


Second Chances

by heeroluva



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Breathplay, Community: happy_trekmas, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Khan meet differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry/gifts).



James Tiberius Kirk. It was a name that Khan had known months before he’d met the man. Khan knew all his accolades and all his buried reprimands (saving the planet seemed to make past indiscretions less meaningful). Official pictures showed him with a cocky smile, but there were candid pictures after Nero’s attack on Earth that spoke of masks and smoke screens, smiles to hide behind.

It was those defiant eyes that stared up at Khan as though Kirk had something to prove, his lips stretched wide around the girth of Khan’s cock, his throat massaging the head of Khan’s cock as he thrust deep and held it. The seconds ticked by, and still Khan didn’t pull back.

Khan watched the way that Kirk’s eyes slowly widened with realization, the way he stiffened and tried to pull back before attempting to struggle away only to be met with Khan’s fingers fisted lightly in his hair, how Kirk quickly came to recognize that he might as well have been fighting against steel bands for all the give that he got. And just as suddenly as his struggles started, they ended, his body relaxing one muscle group at a time as though he willed it to happen.

As Kirk's eyes fell shut, Khan felt a strange fluttering in his chest at the obvious submission, scoffing at the blind trust that the action revealed, at the stupidity of giving himself so fully to a random stranger that he’d just met in a less than reputable bar.

Khan’s other hand dropped to Kirk’s throat, taking note of the bulge of his cock there, but more fascinated by the way Kirk’s heart raced in a futile attempt to transport oxygen to deprived cells. Pressing his leg between Kirk’s spread knees, Khan pushed against the hot swell of Kirk’s cock. Khan smiled ferally at Kirk’s full body shudder, the way his fingers dug into the hard muscles of Khan’s thighs, the way his throat spasmed involuntarily around Khan’s cock as Kirk humped helplessly against Khan’s leg as he chased his orgasm, the layers of their pants doing little to disguises the wetness seeping through them.

Khan watched the way that Kirk’s lashes fluttered, the way his lips began to turn blue, listened to the racing of Kirk’s heart beginning to slow, to the first, then the second skipped beat before Khan finally pulled back. Kirk drew in a loud, gasping breath and would have collapsed if not for the grip that Khan still had on his head. Khan’s other hand rose to his aching cock, fist sliding over the wet surface with ease.

Still panting, Kirk slowly opened his eyes, and even debauched as he was, sweat-soaked and face spit-slicked and red, his eyes still held a challenge, a dare.

With a deep groan, Khan came, painting Kirk’s face with his cum, watching the way that Kirk closed his eyes, and opened his mouth wider in invitation, the way he seemed to savor the taste and licked his lips clean hoping for more.

When Kirk opened his eyes again, pausing momentarily to wipe away the streak of cum that had fallen across his left eye, he met Khan’s eyes and laughed. “Fuck, I’ve never come so hard in my life.” Using Khan as a stabilizer, Kirk rose unsteadily to his feet, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Next time let me at least take off my pants first. This is kind of gross.”

Lip curling in a smirk, Khan repeated, “‘Next time?’ That’s a bit presumptuous of you.”

Returning the smirk, Kirk’s hand dropped to curl around Khan’s still half-hard cock, giving it a firm squeeze, drawing a moan from Khan. Letting him go, Kirk wiped his face with his shirt and turned and began to walk away, pausing to throw over his shoulder, “It’s only presumptuous if it’s not true.”

Khan’s grin stretched wider as he watched Kirk’s hips sway in invitation as he strode away. Tucking his cock away and pulling up his zipper before refastening the button of his pants, Khan followed him out.

Kirk was both everything and nothing that Khan had expected.

 

  
Khan hadn’t had a plan to meet Kirk, hadn’t gone into the bar expecting anything other than quick relief before returning to the task of saving his people. It was a distraction that he didn’t need, couldn’t afford, but he knew it would get worse if he didn’t do anything about it. That Kirk was there seemed mere coincidence, though a part of Khan wondered at that. If Kirk had been sent after him in some way, he was good, very good, had given nothing away, had shown no sense of recognition. That Kirk hadn’t questioned his strength, his origin gave Khan pause before he realized that half-breeds and aliens that could pass for humans weren’t quite so uncommon these days.

It should have been a one off, Khan not meaning for it to be more than a momentary distraction. But Khan couldn’t forget that night, couldn’t forget Kirk, and Khan had never been good at denying himself. This would prove the same. They didn’t exchange names or numbers (not that Khan hadn’t already known his name or would have had a problem finding him if he’d wanted to track Kirk down), didn’t make a plan to meet up again, yet a week later, they walked out of the same bar together.

Khan let Kirk set the pace that time, thinking that he was in control. And when Kirk finally sank into him, Khan flipped them, Khan’s thighs squeezing Kirk’s sides, riding him until he begged to come, until he begged for enough, until he begged for more again.

It was heady the way that Kirk looked at him, like he wasn’t just something to be feared or something to be venerated, and Khan wanted more of it. As the week passed, as names and numbers were exchanged, as meeting became more than just fucking, as conversation turned from word games to deep discussions, Khan realized that he’d begun to lose focus, to forget his purpose.

Kirk was in the shower the day that Marcus showed up unannounced, demanding progress, making threats. Blood boiling with hatred, as his door slid shut behind Marcus the glass long forgotten in his hand shattered, shards of glass embedding themselves in his flesh and blood dripping down onto the countertop.

“John?” Kirk said from behind him, a question in his voice.

Khan’s lips curled in distaste at the name, his attention drawn to his reflection in the window, the face of a stranger staring back at him, another thing taken from him. He wondered how much Kirk had heard, if he’d recognized Marcus. Turning on the water, Khan pulled the glass from his hand, each piece plinking as they hit the metal sink below, and when finally they were all removed and the water ran clear instead of pink, Khan turned, taking in Kirk’s still form on the other side of the island.

Kirk was still wet from the shower, towel wrapped low around his hips, and his face held a frown, his brows furrowed as he looked at Khan’s hand.

Laying it on the counter, Khan offered it for Kirk’s observation. Eyes darting between Khan’s hand and face, Khan could see the gears turning, the questions forming.

“You’re not Starfleet, but you’re working for Marcus, making weapons,” Kirk said, more statement than question. “What’s he have on you?”

“Is there anything you would not do for your family?” Khan asked simply.

Face hardening, Kirk’s eyes were once again drawn to Khan’s unmarked hand.

“My name is Khan Noonien Singh, and I was born in 1947 in Punjab, India.”

Kirk’s eyes snapped up to his again, his eyes widening, and Khan waited for the derision, for the fear. It never came.

“You’re an Augment,” Kirk breathed in shock.

“My ship, my crew, my _family_ , was found by Marcus, and I was awakened with the sole purpose to create weapons to facilitate a war between the Federation and the Klingon Empire.”

“That’s madness.”

Khan laughed, an ugly, unamused sound. “Marcus is quite mad, but he will have his war even without me.”

“We’ll stop him—”

“I will not endanger—”

“—and we’ll save your family.”

Oh. Khan had not expected that. “You would help me, even knowing what I am, what I’ve done?”

Rounding the island, Kirk took Khan’s hand between his own. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Khan swallowed thickly against the unexpected swell of emotion. Just when he thought he knew the man, Kirk went and said something like that, something that shouldn’t have been a surprise at all, yet still blindsided him. “My crew, they need to stay asleep. This world is not meant for them. Someday maybe, but not now.”

“We’ll save them,” Kirk promised, the conviction thick in his voice as he pulled Khan into an unexpected embrace.

Clinging to him, Khan called himself a fool for letting himself hope, but it was a risk that he had no choice but to take.


End file.
